I do love me some karaoke. For many years now I have taken a skillset long honed in the shower and the car, applied it to a pub setting, and had a ball. Like a ronin with a microphone, I will step up, gird my loins, and belt out “Mustang Sally” with fervor.

Couple years back, I entered the Karaoke World Championship, and got through to the state finals. It’s serious biz, and involves costumes, stagecraft, the discreet application of a rent-a-crowd, and being able to carry a tune in more than a paper bag. So much fun!

So this year, I’m doing it again. I have got through to the venue finals at my old stomping ground the Rex Hotel, so the next few weeks will involve polishing up the old voice-box, trying out a few different songs, and getting everything ready for the big night.

This blog is usually about writing and other high-minded pursuits, so I think it only fair to balance things out with the details of my dodgy crooning. More to follow, as once more I tilt at the title!

Your pal,

The Karaoke Fisch.